


PTA moms (and dads)

by Athenaness21 (orphan_account)



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi, domestic AU, pta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-08
Updated: 2017-04-08
Packaged: 2018-10-16 14:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10572807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Athenaness21
Summary: Alex and John's life for a day.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [trash_of_many_fandoms](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trash_of_many_fandoms/gifts).



“Dad! Dad! Look outside!” Philip bounced happily on the end of the bed, which didn’t affect Alex at all, due to his chronic height deficiency, as Jefferson liked to call it. John, on the other hand, got the pleasant experience of having a small child bounce on his legs.

“Yes, Pip?” John yawned, propping himself up against the backboard.

“It’s  _ yellow  _ outside. Can we go play?”

Alex’s dream- in which he was pleasantly  _ murdering every bigoted asshole in the world,  _ was suddenly interrupted by a vivid image of everything outside being yellow, which led to that one time Peggy put Thomas in their dress, at which point he turned over to stare at his husband.

“Hey, Pip, it’s like five, maybe we should sleep a bit longer. Like three hours? You can stay in here if you want.” John said.

Alex nodded sleepily. “Philip, c’mere. I’m going to show you the wonders of sleeping through Jefferson talking.”

“Jefferson’s not talking.” John chided.

“For now.” Alex rolled back over and shut his eyes tightly. “Goodnight.”

“It’s morning.” John said, watching Philip crawl haphazardly across the bed.

“No, it’s not.” 

Philip paused in the middle of the bed, hovering above the two of them before nestling in between the two of them, propping his feet on Alex’s chest.

“Gah!” Alex whirled over. “Philip, your feet are  _ ice.”  _

“It’s good, dad.” Philip assured him. “You get used to it. You can always go see the yellow outside with me.”

Alex sighed, grabbing Philips feet. “Nah, I’m fine.”

 

If you had told the Alex from half a decade ago about his life now, that Alex would have laughed in your face, then told you not to say a word to Jefferson.

White picket fences and flower gardens and being civil to Thomas. A big jump from dorm rooms and liquor and three a.m. emails about Thomas’s sex life.

Of course, domestic bliss had its upsides. For one thing, it  _ was  _ blissful. Most of the time. And he  _ did  _ get to live with John, and have a kitten, and son, and- really, the only downside was being civil to Jefferson, and that was only because John and Madison were on the PTA together. 

Alex shook his head in his sleep.  _ PTA. God.  _

But kittens. Kittens were good. Alex had always wanted a kitten, but had only gotten around to adopting - or rather, pressuring Herc and Laf to give them one- about three months ago, after Eliza and Maria adopted two puppies for their son, Will. Alex- rather, Maria with Alex’s grudging permission- had named Philip’s kitten Eliza. But one of their dogs was named Laurens, so Alex considered them equal.

_ Domestic. And where was Philip? _

Alex sat up, wincing and opening his eyes.  _ Bright. Where the hell are my glasses?  _

Alex groped around the bedside table- a stack of the thickest law books Alex owned. Thomas had donated some of his music books, claiming that the songs they contained ‘were about lawyerism and Julius Caesar’. Alex, after a long consideration, had concluded that he was  _ probably  _ joking. 

Alex’s glasses, of course, were as far away from the bed as possible. Thomas liked to joke that Alex doesn’t need Thomas to spite him, he can do it himself. Alex had spit in Thomas’s face, and John had told Philip that Alex was a bad role model. 

Alex had then proven John wrong by extending a hand to Thomas, which accidentally hit him in the face. Never mind that that was far from plausible, as Thomas’s head was about a foot above Alex’s shoulder.

Alex shoved on his glasses and trudged out of bed, pulling on a shirt. It was probably John’s, judging by the knee-length property of the garment.

“Babe?” He called down the stairs. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Come down and see, dumba-” John was cut off by a lecture from a female voice. 

Alex rubbed his eyes.  _ What was a female voice doing in his house at seven in the morning?  _

“Our  _ sons  _ are in the room, John.” Eliza- yeah, it was  _ probably  _ Eliza- exclaimed. “Do not swear at your boyfriend-”

“Husband.” Alex could hear John correcting her. He grinned. 

Alex thumped down the stairs tiredly. “Eliza, you promised you wouldn’t come over before eleven in the morning, due to you not wanting to see me before I have coffee,” he complained, sliding into a chair in their kitchen. 

“I recently decided that I saw you before eleven plenty when we were dating, so it’s fine.” Eliza said primly. She was dressed nicely- more put together than Alex was at the best of times- in a silky navy shirt that Maria had probably bought for her and a gray scarf. Her son sat on the table beside her, in a t-shirt with a historically inaccurate joke, momentarily in a similar pose before lapsing into giggles. Eliza smiled fondly. “And besides, John and Philip are wonderful company in the morning, even if you and Maria aren’t. You both got to used to waking up after one night stands with hangovers, and failed to learn how to wake up happily.” Eliza continued. 

“Is that why you come over?” John asked from the stove. “Is Maria that bad in the morning?”

Alex shook his head. “No, she’s actually quite pleasant. I should know.” 

Eliza paused to glare slightly at Alex. “No, she just sleeps in until noon, and when I come over John makes me breakfast.”

Philip grinned and climbed up onto the table next to William. “Hey, dad?”

“Yes, Pip?” John responded, shuffling the eggs he was cooking and wincing. 

“How do you cook?”

John tilted himself so that Philip could see the frying pan. “So, first, I had to crack the egg into a bowl…”

Alex got himself some coffee. 

 

Outside was indeed yellow, but not exactly how Alex had imagined. The sun had decided to amplify it’s brightness about fifty-five percent that morning, and there was a distinctly yellow tint to the world, if a minor one. William and Philip scrambled across the street, running into the Jefferson’s backyard, where James and Thomas’s daughters were waiting in the treehouse.

James was sitting on his deck, typing on Thomas’s brand new computer. It had probably cost him half of Alex’s life savings. That is, Alex’s life savings a few years ago. His life savings were now combined with John’s and were considerably larger. He looked up when Philip and Alex came out of the house and smiled.

“Alex, up before noon on a weekend?”

“Took a lot of work, but yes.”

John and Eliza walked out a few seconds later, Eliza holding a mug of tea- it was specifically hers, John and Alex had given it to her for her birthday and she had insisted that it they keep it at their house.

James grinned when he saw them. “John! How’s Philip?”

“You could’ve asked me.” Alex grumbled.

Eliza patted his back consolingly with her free hand. “Don’t take offence, no one thinks you know anything useful.”

“I know all of the checks and balances in our government system.” Alex protested.

“You’ll note I said useful.”

“Please don’t insult me anymore.”

John and Eliza walked across the street to James and Alex was forced to follow them, pouting slightly. (he had tried to eliminate his pouting habit when they had adopted Philip, but it was hard.)

John leaned against their door. “Who’re you writing? You don’t look happy about it.”

James sighed, leaning back. Alex took pride in the fact that he  _ wasn’t  _ the shortest dad in the neighborhood, and loved to remind Thomas of it. Thomas, of course, because Alex had no reason to taunt James. “Linda.”

Eliza’s pursed her lips. “Linda?”

Alex walked over to stand by John, and John curled his arm around him. “Who’s Linda?” Alex asked.

John crinkled his nose, a habit of his that Alex found adorable, but usually meant that he was annoyed. “Only the worst baker ever.”

John, everyone agreed, was the best baker. Jefferson only said this so that John wouldn’t start charging him for his daughter's birthday cakes.

Alex widened his eyes. “What’d she  _ do?”  _

Eliza sighed. “She makes the driest lemon bars for PTA meetings, which she says are gluten free so that I can have them, but honestly no one in their right mind would eat them, so it’s just annoying.”

“She’s also been trying to stop Thomas and I from going to conferences together, saying that it’s a bad influence on the kids. Theo managed to set her right, but I don’t think she really listened.” James sighed. 

Alex ran a hand through his hair. “Well, geez. Bad pastries  _ and  _ homophobia? Doesn’t get much worse there.” He walked over to James. “What’re you writing her about?”

“It’s a group message; Theo emailed everyone some recipes, and it somehow got to Martha Manning’s daughter’s shorts being too short.”

“How’d it get to that?”

“Decisive manipulation of the subject. They’re asking my opinion and I’m carefully formulating my answer.” James said, tapping his fingers.

Alex leaned over his shoulder, peering at the screen. “Carefully formulating doesn’t work. You need to  _ rant.”  _ He reached over and took the computer from James. “Here, I’ll do it for you.”

James grabbed it back. “Uh, no.”

Eliza sighed. “Here, I’ll put her head on right.”

There was a pause, and Thomas, wearing gardening gloves and holding a trowel, limped out of the backyard. He groaned, clutching his knee. “Which one of you is teaching your kid karate?”

Eliza, looking up from the computer, shrugged. “Maria thought it was a good idea for Will to be able to defend himself.”

“But it  _ hurts.”  _ Thomas whined, collapsing on the bench next to his husband, and half on Alex. Alex stood up, inched away from Thomas, and went back to John, who shifted to the left to make room for Alex.

Thomas smiled. “Who’re you writing?”

“Linda?”

“Oh,  _ her?”  _  Thomas leaned back and put his arm around James’s shoulder. “Don’t bother with her, James. Some people just can’t be helped. She’s one of them. Hamilton is another.”

Alex scoffed. “Don’t go comparing me to some PTA mom who can’t stand to have her views challenged.”

“I can’t help it- the comparison is so easy.”

Maria walked out onto her balcony in her bathrobe- blood red with black trim- and shouted, “Where’re the kids?”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “We sold them, Maria. Fifty grand each. Great deal. I’m going to win the game of life.”

“Don’t joke about that, Jefferson.” Maria scolded. “Where are they?”

“Backyard, darling.” Eliza said, smiling at the computer. “I think they’re in the clubhouse.”

“We’re eating at your house, by the way.” Maria informed Thomas. He looked like he wanted to protest, but James set a hand on his shoulder, and he shrugged. “We’re having grilled cheese and salad.”

“Sounds great. I’ll be down in a minute.” Maria pirouetted and spun back inside, closing the door behind her.

Eliza tapped a key on the computer twice and sat back. “Done.” she said contentedly.

James took the computer back. “Did you send it?”

“Yeah.”

James scanned whatever’s on the screen, paused, and coughed. “Um, Eliza?”

“Yes?”

“Are you sure this was-”

“The woman is terrible, James.”

“But-”

“James.” Eliza stared at him. 

Thomas tightened his arm around James slightly.

James sighed- an action that prompts a cough- and receded. “Fine.”

Thomas stood up, making a show of dusting off his jeans- powdering the area around him with leftover dirt from his gardening. “I’m going inside to make lunch- who’ll join me?”

There’s silence, then Alex grudgingly raised his hand. 

Eliza gasped mockingly, and Alex grimaced. “I just want to make sure he doesn’t poison me.”

John, grinning, pushed himself off the wall. “I’ll come too.”

Thomas opened the door, “come in, I guess,” and walked through. 

 

“Your kitchen is disgustingly clean.” Alex said, sitting on the island and kicking his legs.

“And yours is practically growing mold.” Thomas shot back.

John blinked at Thomas. “ ‘m sorry, what did you say about  _ my kitchen?”  _

“That you should clean it more often.”

“Well, you should learn to cook.”

Thomas paused- it looked like was deciding whether to be offended- then sighed. “But my cookbooks are shit.”

“That’s too-”

Thomas gasped. “I have had an  _ amazing idea.”  _

Alex stopped kicking and looked at Thomas. “Uh…”

“We should have mac and cheese!” Thomas held up a block of what Alex assumed is chedder.

Alex mimed gagging and John paused. 

“What about…” he said carefully, “We take a more… democratic approach?”

Thomas rolled his eyes, but agreed. 

Alex grinned. 

They paraded outside and Alex pounced on Eliza. “What’s your opinion on mac and cheese?”

She widened her eyes and shook her head. 

Alex glanced triumphantly at Thomas and took out his phone. “Now, let’s ask Theo, Burr, and Maria.”

“Two of them aren’t even eating with us.” Thomas complained.

“Well, then you’ve already lost.” Alex pointed out and Thomas conceded. Grudgingly. And with slight theatric moaning and complaining of ‘mob rule’.

“Burr says yes, the bastard, Theo says yes, and Maria says no.” Alex counted out on his fingers, “so it’s tied.”

Thomas leaned on Jemmy. “My precious knight in shining armor, save me from the malicious mod rule threatening our very kitchen.”

James sighed, “Princess…”

Thomas looked at Eliza, wide eyed.

“Princess, you know I love you, but we had macaroni yesterday.”

Thomas stood up, sputtering, then shrugged. “I wasn’t expecting much else.”

Maria walks onto the porch in a tanktop and shorts, standing across from her wife and leaning against a railing. “What’d I miss?”

Alex gestured at Eliza. “Your wife just wrote the  _ best  _ PTA mom email reply I’ve seen.”

“You’ve never seen a PTA mom email reply.”

“So?”

“So you don’t-” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

“How was your beauty sleep, darling?” Eliza asked.

“Wonderful, but it was better with you.” Maria responded.

Thomas stood back up. “Well, as much as I would love to stay here and listen to you flirt, I have a  _ non mac and cheese  _ lunch to make.”

“Oh, of course.” Maria waved him off and he huffs into the house. James watched him go, rolling his eyes.

Alex followed him-  _ “You better not be adding laudanum to the cheese”-  _ and John followed  _ him- “Alex, I don’t think he has any.”-  _ Alex glanced back at John-  _ “I wouldn’t put anything past him.” _

 

“Maria, can I have juice?” Thomas’s daughter, a curly-haired girl named Polly, was sitting at the table.

“I don’t know,” Maria replied, “can you?”

Polly scowled. “Please get me something to drink.”

“Of course.” Maria graciously took her cup and sashayed into the kitchen where the other adults were eating sandwiches and talking.

Polly looked over at her younger sister Lucy, “what are you going to do now?”

Lucy looked over at Philip, and Philip glanced at Will, who shrugged. Philip turns back to Lucy and shrugs, and Lucy says, “I dunno.”

Polly stands up and walks into the kitchen, where she elbows Thomas, who winces.

“Dad, can I be done babysitting?” She complains.

James looks contemplative, then nods. “Under one condition. You have to babysit tonight- we’re going out.”

Polly grimaces, but nods back. “Whatever.” she says, walking back into the dining room.

Alex frowns at James. “We’re going out?”

James nods. “Our treat.”

 

Over the next half hour the adults migrate to the living room- Eliza wants to sit down, James needs to grab a book, Thomas wants to be in the same room as James, who, once he had found the book, had forgotten to come back in. John stayed in the kitchen, rifling through Thomas and James’s pantry and tsking. 

“Don’t you have any flour?” he shouted into the other room.

“I’m not sure.” Thomas said. 

John turned back into the kitchen, grumbling about ‘what even’ and ‘how do you make dinner’.

The kids finished eating, more or less, and ran upstairs, giggling, Will waving a book that he had taken from Polly’s bookshelf. 

James grabbed his phone and turned it on, his frown deepening.. “It’s Linda. She’s upset about what you wrote, Eliza.”

Eliza didn’t look up. “Tell her to be glad I didn’t let Alex at her.”

“Tell her that her lemon bars suck.” John shouted.

Alex lifted an eyebrow. “Give her some ingredients.”

Eliza scoffs. “And save her money? I don’t think so.”

Thomas cocks his head at Alex. “What do you mean?”

Alex blinks at Thomas, grinning. “Exactly what I mean.”

 

“John,” Alex pleaded, “will you find some stuff for gluten free lemon bars? I  _ really  _ want to kil- meet this Linda woman, and how better to introduce yourself that a classic gesture of goodwill?”

John smiled, biting his lip. “I would  _ love  _ to, babygirl, but  _ someone  _ hasn’t bothered to keep anything useful on hand.”

Alex turned on Thomas. “I need fifty-three dollars, thank you, and I’ll give you the change.”

Thomas squinted at Alex. “O-kay.”

“good.” Alex grabbed the money from Thomas and raced upstairs. 

Philip and Will were sitting on the floor- Will was wearing a crown, and Philip had a towel tied around his neck as a cape. Lucy was wearing a white dress and was sitting on a chair, talking. She stopped abruptly when Alex came in the room. 

Alex bowed. “Queen Lucy! I didn’t mean to interrupt court, but I’m afraid I must take your squire here away.”

Lucy stared at him. “He’s a knight, not a squire, Alexander.”

Alex nodded. “Of course, your majesty.”

“I’m a duchess, by the way.” Lucy added, waving her hand dismissively.

Alex tilted his head, motioning for Philip to come over to him. “From France?”

“Yes.” Lucy waved him away. “Go take your knight on his quest, but  _ be sure to bring him back.”  _ The five year old thundered, as much as a five year old can, anyhow.

Alex nodded slowly and backed out of the room, Philip untying his cape and following.

“James, your daughter scares me.” he complained. 

Maria rolled her eyes. “You’re not the only one.”

Eliza sighed. “I can’t imagine where she got it from, honestly. You and Thomas…”

James snorted. “It was Dolley.”

“Makes sense.”

 

“What’s the difference between a goddamned ‘whole wheat’ and ‘white’? Where’s the ‘half wheat’, or whatever?” Alex groused. 

Philip blinked at him. “When was the last time you went in a grocery store?”

“College.” Alex picked up the bread. “Do you think this is what we need?”

“Dad, you don’t need bread to make stuff.”

Alex looked down at his son. “Well, then what  _ do  _ I need?”

Philip hummed. “Well, you need flowers, and the white stuff.”

“Um, okay.” Alex looked around. “I think the flowers are over there, and we can probably get salt here.”

“And then a bar of the white stuff.”

Alex nodded, “soap.”

“Eggs.”

“I see some over by the candy,”

“Baking powder,”

“We use cinnamon when baking, right? And it’s a powder.”

“And then the one that’s like oranges but aren’t.”

“Grapefruits?”

Philip nodded serenely

Alex nodded back, grinning. “John’s going to kill me.” he muttered.

Philip ran over to the flowers. “So, I think what you’re making is supposed to be yellow, right?”

“Lemon bars? Yeah.”

“So we should get daffodils, those are yellow.” Philip pointed to a bouquet of yellow tulips, which Alex obligingly picked them up.

Philip frowned. “And those roses for dad.”

“Of course.”

“Now, soap and salt.”

“It’s in the white stuffs aisle.” Philip said. 

“Oh, of course. Should we get some of that flour, too?”

Philp grimaced. “That powdery stuff? It’s unnecessary.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Alex shrugged, “Whatever you say, Sir Laurens.”

Philip puffs up his chest. “That’s right, I’m a knight. And I’m avenging Mr. Jefferson.”

“You’re avenging Mr. Madison and Mrs. Schuyler.” Alex corrected.

“Sure, dad.”

 

Philip tossed the groceries onto the checkout and smiled guilelessly at the cashier. “We’re making lemon bars.” he said, widening his eyes. 

The cashier smiled back and glanced up at Alex. “Have you got someone at home who cooks?”

“Yup.” Alex laid out a few of the other stuff he had picked up, like flour, and flashed the cashier a grin. “My husband’s pretty great.”

“Mm-hm.” The cashier put the groceries in a plastic bag and handed it to Alex. “Have a nice day!” they said cheerily, waving down at Philp.

Alex waved at them over his shoulder as he grabbed Philips hand and lead him away. 

 

“You’re back!  _ Finally.”  _ Thomas looked up at Alex. He was draped over his husband, and James was reading something that looked… long and was probably about Stratzinky or Montessori or marble staircases. 

Thomas stood up and held up Philip, who giggled as Thomas spun his around.

Alex glared at Thomas. “Please put down my kid.”

Thomas blinked at Alex. “You know, John and James were talking about naming me and James as Philip’s godfathers. I feel like I should get to know the kid.”

Alex huffed. “A blatant lie. I’m appalled. We’ve already named Washington his godfather.”

“A kid can have more than one godfather, Alexander. What if Gwash dies before you?”

“Then Eliza and Maria. They’re  _ times  _ more responsible than you.”

“You wound me.”

“I’m glad.” Thomas set Philip down gently and grabbed the paper bag from Alex, peering in it. “Ooh, are these roses for me?”

“No.”

“The daffodils, then?”

“No.”

“Aw.” Thomas sighed. “Love,” he said, looking at James, “Will you buy me flowers?”

“Why do you want flowers?”

“Because they’re pretty.”

“I think you’re pretty enough.” James said offhandedly. 

“Thank you, darlin’”

Alex retched and walked into the kitchen, where John was still tearing his hair out at the lack of baking ingredients.

“We got you stuff!” Alex said triumphantly. 

“Thank you!” John threw his arm around Alex’s shoulder. “I love you!”

“No problem.”

John dumped out the paper bag on the counter, then groaned. “Alex, I trusted you.”

“I thought you learned not to do that back in college.”

“I thought I did too. But then I married you.”

“Oh, yeah.” Alex shrugged. “You get what you pay for, I guess.”

“I didn’t pay for anything.”

“I digress. That wedding cost a  _ lot.”  _

John looked dismally at the assorted flowers on the counter. “You couldn’t have done worse if you had let Philip decide what you bought.”

“That’s what I did.”

“Dumbass.”

“But I got you roses!” Alex threw the bouquet at John.

“And I applaud you for that.”

“Here, I’ll cook.”

John threw up his hands. “It’s not my kitchen. I’ll watch you.”

“Of course.”

 

Alex took out the flour and the flower and the salt and sugar and soap and about seventeen different bowls and pulled up a recipe on his phone, took one look at it and gave up.

“I’ll do it tomorrow.” He declared, much to the amusement of John. 

“Really, baby girl. I would think you would have more dedication, if it’s in the name of roasting someone.”

Alex rolled his eyes at John. “Imma go write.”

“Have fun.”

Alex walked back to his house and John followed him, scooping up Philip on the way and murmuring about the mess in James’s kitchen.

 

Alex liked his computer. It had taken his a year or two to get settled in he and John’s new house- it was so much bigger than his old apartment and it made him feel guilty about having such a big house sometimes (as well as Philips habit of hiding things ‘so that they would be safe’ but then forgetting where he had hid them), but he had to admit that there were upsides to a large house. 

Such as having an entire office at home. 

As much as Alex loved the office, though, it was mostly used to store books and papers, rather than his actually working in it. Alex used a laptop, which had the convenience of being able to be used anywhere.

He used it most often in their living room, with Philip playing on the floor. John would every so often come and peer over his shoulder and read a line aloud in an overly dramatic fashion and kiss Alex’s nose, which would distract Alex enough that he would forget what his point was going to be and he would have to rewrite the paragraph. 

There was  _ so  _ much Alex wanted to write about, but he didn’t want to write.

He didn’t find that too strange- it had been happening sometimes lately, and when it did Alex would simply spend time with his husband and son and write after Philip had gone to bed, explaining to John was he was writing about and John would nod slowly and grin. 

Alex closed the laptop and sat on the arm of John’s chair. “My love, do you know when we’re going out tonight? I haven’t seen Laf and Herc in  _ ages.”  _

“You mean a week.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“It’s at seven- in an hour. Peggy’ll be there too.”

“Ooh, good! I haven’t seen them in forever.”

“Five days.”

“Yeah.” Alex ran his fingers through John’s hair. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Some italian restaurant? I dunno.”

“Nice.” Alex hummed and watched Philip, who was building a castle with a set of nice wooden blocks Thomas had gotten his last year for Christmas.

“I like your track, Pip.” Alex said.

“Thanks, dad.” Philip pursed his lips and looked at the twirling structure he’s made. “It needs something.”

John nodded. “Rainbow.”

Philip nodded back. “That’s it. We need paint.”

Alex bit his lip. “I’m not sure we have any.”

John smiled. “I’m sure we have  _ some  _ left over from when I went on that painting spree,” he cringes and Alex grins. 

“I thought that was romantic.”

“Painting’s not really my thing.”

“What about baking?” Philip asks.

“Your dad abandoned that.”

Philip looks up at Alex, astonished. “But we were going to make lemon bars!” he complained.

“No, we were going to throw flour on a random lady.” Alex explained. 

John squinted at Alex. “I thought-”

“You thought I would give up a chance to throw flour at some old prejudiced white lady?”

John closed his eyes. “Since when did you do that?”

Alex grinned. “Admittedly, I haven’t done it in a while-” he glanced at John. “Oh come on, I was kidding.”

“What were you going to do?”

“Write a letter and make a mess of Thomas’s kitchen.” Alex shrugged. “I’ve found that my skills are best used insulting people through words. And anyone who insults Eliza deserves my best insults.” Alex scowled and Philip laughed. 

“Dads, I need your help making my castle rainbow.”

“I’ll go find those paints.” Alex volunteered and kissed John on the cheek before heading to the basement.

 

Alex’s basement in a mess of boxes- like most people's attics. Their house didn’t have an attic, though, so they had fallen into the habit of throwing old stuff into box and throwing those boxes into the basement. There’s a plastic crate full of baby clothes from Philip- John plans on giving them to the rest of his family when they have kids- a vacuum, some suits- including a magenta one that Alex had bought on impulse then tried to give to Thomas- a box of LEGOs for when Philip was older, a wooden box that’s completely empty- Alex called it modern art and refused to fill it- and paints. There.

Alex took the stack of acrylics and walked up the stairs with them carefully. 

“I have the paints.”

“And we have an hour until we’re going.” John said, glancing up at Alex then back at Philip. “We’ll have to demolish your castle to make it rainbow, Pip.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make.” Philip said. The phrase sounded comical in his squeaky voice, and Alex chuckled. 

John picked up some paints and a block and shows Philip how to paint so that it looks nice, and Philip did as he did, grinning.

They painted for the next forty-five minutes, when they finished all of the bricks in the castle. It’s obvious who painted which. John’s were artistic, with scales of colors and patterns, and Alex’s were all solid color. Pip’s were just scribbles with polka dots, like only a six-year-old’s can be. 

John stood up and dusted off his hands. “I think me and your dad need to go get dressed.” he told Philip, offering Alex a hand, which he took.

 

Alex and John, now dressed up- John in a nice violet button down shirt and Alex in a crumpled white one- take Phlip over to the Jefferson’s house, where the leave him with Polly and the other kids. 

They slide into Eliza’s car and Alex stretched his arm over John’s shoulder. 

Maria flipped them off from the driver's seat. “You’ve got your own car.”

“But you drive so much better than me, Maria.” Alex said.

John laughed. “You can say that again.”

Alex scoffed quietly. “So, what italian restaurant are we going to?”

“It’s called ‘Va Bene’. Thomas says it’s good.”

“Can’t trust Thomas.”

 

“Peggy!” Eliza hugged her sibling, who leaned backward, patting Eliza’s back. “Good to see you too, ‘Liza.” They said awkwardly. “How’s Will?”

“He’s doing great,” Eliza said, “How’re you?”

“Fine.” Peggy sat down at the table where Thomas, James, and Herc already were.

Thomas was inspecting James’s menu, looking over his shoulder and pointing. Hercules was tapping his fingers on the table. 

Lafayette hugged both John and Alex and ushered them to sit down. “How was your week?” he asked.

“Fine. I dissed a PTA mom.”

“Very nice.” Laf kept a straight face for a second, then his face broke into a grin. “I’m proud of you, mon ami.”

“You flatter me.”

“ ‘t’s my job.”

Thomas bangged his fist on the table. “Sittdown.” he ordered, and everyone but Peggy complied. Peggy stood up defiantly, leaning against the table. 

Thomas flashed a glare at her, but didn’t say anything. “We have something to say,” he declared. 

Everyone glanced at James, who bit his lip and nodded his head at Thomas. 

“We’re adopting again.” Thomas says gravely. 

Alex widened his eyes. “Same!”

John pinched his eyes shut. “ _ Alex…”  _

Alex grabbed a menu and buried his face in it, talking rapidly. “ _ I mean that’s great for you and it’s not like me and John are planning anything or have something that we were waiting to tell you and-” _

John placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “We’re adopting again.” he said nonchalantly. “And we were going to keep it a secret until we were completely sure, but I guess…”

Thomas frowned. “And you call me an attention hog. I was announcing something.”

“Well so were we.” Alex leaned forward. “Can I be the kids godfather?”

Thomas grimaced, then pursued his lips. “Only if you return the favor.”

John leaned over to James, “You’d think they'd ask us first.” he stage whispered. 

James coughed in agreement.

Peggy cleared their throat loudly. “So, I’m thinking about being a lawyer.”

Thomas shook his head sadly and Alex hugged them.

“Another one corrupted by Alexander.”

“Or an architect.”

Alex stuck out his tongue. “Oh, you’re messing with us.”

“Yeah. You’re both remarkably expressive for old guys.” Peggy held up a notebook. “I’m pursuing a career in broadway productions.”

“Good for you!” Thomas congratulated them and they beamed and picked up a menu. “What’re you all getting?”

“The gnocchi sounds good.” Maria said, completely butchering the word. Alex and Thomas snickered, and Eliza politely corrected her. Peggy held up their menu and said, in a bad mockery of Maria’s voice, “I’ll have the spaghetti.” mispronouncing it.

Maira glared at them. “I pronounce thing right usually.” she protested, and Alex stifled a laugh.

“Ah, yes, of course, although I seem to remember a problem with the word ‘subtle’?”

Maria squinted at Alex. “Shut up.”

“I’m just pointing out the truth.”

Eliza leaned forward. “So, how’s Angel?”

Peggy shrugged. “She’s doing fine- says she likes London. I dunno- it seems kinda busy to me.” They took a sip of their water. “And she met someone named John Church and he seems okay, but she doesn’t like him much, I don’t think.”

“How did you like London?” Lafayette asked. “I’ve heard it’s got great museums.”

“It does.” Thomas confirmed. “I’ve been there a ton.”

Alex made a face. “Okay, you’re rich, you travel, we get it.”

“Shut up, asshole.”

Peggy cleared their throat. “To answer your question, Laf, it was great. I went to the London Coffee Festival, which is actually a thing?” 

Alex had a brief vision of Peggy after fifteen cups of coffee and winced. 

A waiter walked over- a tall man with straight blonde hair- and looked expectantly at the group. “Are you ready to order?”

Herc nodded. “I’ll have the rigatoni?”

Thomas pointed at the menu. “I’ll have this pasta.”

The waiter nodded, and jotted it down. 

Alex squinted at Thomas. “I’ll have the  _ anti _ pasti.”

Thomas sniffed. “That’s not a meal, Alex. Antipasti is an appetizer.”

“Well, pasta isn’t a meal either- you have to be more specific.” Alex turned to the waiter. “I’’l have fettuccini alfredo.”

“And I’ll have the arrabiata al padre ricardo .”

“A wonderful choice.”

Everyone else ordered and the waiter left. Alex leaned forward. “You just ordered that because it’s got the fanciest name on the menu.”

“Not true. I happen to like penne.”

“Oh, of course.”

“You shouldn’t talk, you tried to order the ‘antipasti’.”

James set a hand on his husbands arm. “We’re having a civil dinner here, Thomas.”

“And yet you invited Hamilton  _ and  _ Thomas.” Peggy rolled their eyes.

“A fit of bad judgement.” James frowned at them. “When did you get so sassy?”

“I’m a product of my environment.”

“It was Dolley.”

“Yeah.” Peggy agreed.

 

An hour later Eliza drove Maria, John and Alex home. 

“It was nice seeing Peggy again.” Alex commented. 

“Yup.” Eliza turned slightly and cast a glance at him. “Are you and John actually adopting?”

“Yeah.” Alex nodded. “There’s a little girl that’s really nice- John’s working on getting the adoption papers.”

“Nice.” Eliza looked back at the road. “Thomas’s girls will be thrilled to have another girl with them.”

“Another subject for Thomas’s daughter.” Alex muttered. 

Eliza shrugged. “We’re home, I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Bye.” John and Alex pulled themselves out of the car and walked home- Philip would stay at the Jefferson’s- having a sleepover with Will and the girls.

 

Alex was sitting on the couch. “I’m tired and I need to write.”

“I’m tired and  _ you  _ need to go to sleep.” John, lying on his lap, poked his stomach.

Alex ran his fingers through John’s hair. “Gods, I love you.”

“I love you too.” John sat up, grabbing Alex’s arm. “But you’re not writing tonight, babygirl. C’mon.”

Alex, of course, decided that maybe he could wait another day to write.


End file.
